Never Fear
by Filaments
Summary: After hearing of Devi's ordeal with Sickness, Nny seeks her out to affirm she survived intact. But by the end of their conversation, he finally finds the tables turned in their relationship. DeviNny. One Shot. R and R. Rated M for language.


In the middle of a filthy, dirty, famous city in California that was entirely overrated, there was a dingy drug store. It sat between a laundromat and a Chinese food place, instructing in an exaggerated Asian font, 'EAT HERE'. In a few minutes, a murder would be committed there.

But right now our story is concerned with the drug store and the people currently drawn to this filthy edifice.

Inside, a mother was holding a child on her hip and perusing the aisles for something to feed him. The infant struggled against her hold. A strange man at the back was checking the dates on every single carton of milk, and a bored looking clerk sat with her cheek resting against her hand.

Her magenta hair was done up in two pigtails, currently sagging in the heat. She stared off into space, trying to ignore how uncomfortable she was. It was hot in there, considering their air conditioning had broken earlier in her shift and, even though it was late and it would be cooler if they left the door open, her manager was paranoid and insisted that doing so would invite thieves. So she left things well enough alone and suffered in silence behind the counter, with no small measure of internal, unvoiced bitterness reserved for the asshole.

Outside, a dark figure leaned against the side of the slightly inset window, watching her around the many fliers advertising the place's goods that were taped against the window. There was a several inch space between two duplicate fliers proclaiming that Senor Salsa was only 99 cents, and her head was framed perfectly through it.

Devi didn't even know that he was there. With all the dumb fliers in the way she could barely see out the window during broad daylight, let alone spot a dark figure watching here against an even darker sky. He might as well have been invisible.

A few minutes later, everyone had cleared out of the drugstore and she was on her own again. She stirred her half-melted freezie boredly.

She'd given up on those fucking commission art jobs. Corporate art was clearly not the venue for her, not with the way things had turned out last time. So she was back to drawing on her own time, being her own boss...and working a shit job on the side to pay the bills.

She sighed to herself, mouth screwing up to the right, a familiar gesture to the watcher in the window. He recognized it as a sign of her ire, and wondered what she was thinking. He tapped his boot impatiently against the ground with a faint metallic tap.

She was thinking about how happy she should be to not be working for that corporate slavemonger anymore. Her current boss was a paranoid ass, but at least he didn't want to break her soul into itty bitty pieces. So, okay, if she was so happy, why did she feel so...off? Tenna had told her time and time again that she should be feeling _better_, not worse.

And, yeah, it wasn't quite _worse_, it just wasn't much _better_. The ordeal with Sickness was over, but she still felt a gnawing in her gut like all wasn't right with the world.

She wouldn't tell anyone outside her head, but she was starting to get sort of lonely. After that whole zombie business...and the guy who'd gotten the shrapnel when he'd crashed his car...that guy who'd shit in his pants--lord, after her dating experiences in _general_--she was giving up dating guys. Maybe she'd try girls for a change of pace, do the sceney bi thing.

And maybe she'd spork herself in the head.

Still, she wasn't going back to the dating scene. Her experiences had been too weird. _I mean, a zombie? Come on,_ she thought.

She didn't even want to think about Nny.

At that moment, the man outside walked in and went straight to the back of the store like the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels. He buried himself in the pharmaceuticals aisle, and she watched the top of his head curve around the displays for a moment before going back to her freezie, taking a sip. She'd never really drank these before meeting Nny. He'd been the one who'd turned her onto them. They were horrifyingly sweet. They'd burn the back of your throat with it after a while, but were nice in small doses.

Kind of like Nny, really.

But fuck it, why was she thinking about him? She'd been doing her best for months to forget him. It was the loneliness, and she knew it. It was eating away at her resolve and the barrier she'd put up between herself and those memories.

She stared into her melted freezie and started wondering when she would stop thinking so much.

The figure at the back of the store was coming slowly up to the front. When he came beyond the edge of the aisles, he kept his head down, and slid a jar of Senor Salsa and a cheery freezie across the counter at her. She gave him a quick look and then began to ring him up. "Just those?" she asked, tone disinterested. Well, at least he wasn't trying to make small talk.

"Just those."

It only took two words. She stopped punching in numbers, unable to move.

She knew that voice. She would always know that voice.

Nny glanced up at her, smiling weakly. "Hey...um...Devi. Fancy meeting you here!" The first part was slow and stilted, the second too quick. She backed away from the counter, shaking her head in disbelief. Her eyes were huge.

"Nny...Nny. What...you motherfucker." Her disbelief turned quickly to fury. "You're fucking sick, Nny, this is fucking _sick_."

He'd obviously expected this reaction. "Look, I don't want to piss you off or anything, alright? I just wanted to see you, and make sure you were okay, because someone told me that you got attacked by psychic fat and I've heard that can be debilitating for the immune system."

She didn't move, pressed up against the cigarettes. "How the fuck did you find out where I worked?"

"Tenna told me."

First she was shocked, then pissed. "TENNA!?"

He seemed oblivious to her anger. "Yeah. I told her I mi--wanted to see you, and she told me."

She shook her head. "I can't...I can't even fucking believe this is happening."

He nodded. "Yeah." There was a long pause while they both stared at each other. Then he carefully reached out and pulled his things back towards himself. He placed his money down next to the cash register, slim, spindly, sharp fingers setting the money down like it was a bomb that might explode. Just moving seemed dangerous with all the tension that was in the air. "Maybe I'll just...go."

"Wait," she said, almost inaudibly.

He turned his head, not sure he had heard her right, scared that he might have.

"I...I heard something about you recently," she said slowly. She was still up against the back wall with her head pinned tight to the malboros, and she never took her eyes off him. "Somebody was telling me about you. I think...I think we might have some more in common than I thought."

Part of her wondered what the fuck she was doing, implying that she had something in common with the mass murderer who had tried to kill her. The other part, though, was starting to think that maybe--just maybe--it hadn't entirely been his fault.

"You mean the Sicky thing, don't you? I heard about that, too." He watched her, very carefully, trying to tell whether or not she was planning on bolting.

He kept his unblinking stare on her, and she stared back, too freaked out to break his gaze. He wasn't much different than she remembered. His dark blue hair was a little shorter, but in the same messy, spiky arrangement it had always been. He still looked way too thin, and he was still wearing all black. Surprise, surprise. His tone of voice was different, though. It was missing that dead quality that she'd heard murmuring to her over her phone line and through a tape recorder. He'd been too scared to even talk to her over the phone, then. Why was he approaching her now?

"What, were you worried about me?" she asked, her tone snide.

He looked uneasy. "Well, I...I thought I'd make sure it hadn't run off with part of you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Part of what?"

"Part of you. Your sanity, you know."

She sighed, her face falling. "No. I have it prisoner."

His eyes widened. "You can do that?" He quickly regained his composure, shaking his head. "Nevermind. That's good. Really good. Okay."

They stood there staring at each other again. Nny wanted to leave, had every intention of leaving...but he couldn't make his feet move.

"What happened to never wanting to see me again?" she said, her voice quiet. At least he was staying on that side of the counter.

"I..." he hesitated, visibly. "I didn't want to be forced to hurt you. Because of the immortality of a good thing in death and...stuff. But I'm not going to do that."

"Yeah?" she challenged. "So why are you here now? How do I know you're telling me the truth?"

He grew shifty, clasping and unclasping his hands. "You...well...you don't. That's the whole thing."

"You didn't answer my first question." She was still pressed up against the back wall, but she'd straightened, and didn't look quite so anxious about the possibility of him jumping on her.

He couldn't look at her anymore, so he talked to his freezie instead. "It's...complicated. It involves monkeys and powdered eggs and all sorts of complicated logistical type things. Reverend Meat says I think too much but really, I'm just trying to make sure you're okay right now and that's all."

She narrowed her eyes suspicious of the ramble. "No ulterior motive? And who's 'Reverend Meat'? Another little friend who's going to tell you to kill me?"

"No," he said, almost too quickly. "No motive. No friend. I don't have any friends."

She put her hands on her hips. "You just came by to make sure I was alright?" she asked, tone dry. "You _just_ tracked me down through Tenna when you and I both know you could have sent me a message through her?"

"She thought I should see you in person," he explained, gloved hands spread.

Her head fell back. "Fucking hell, Tenna."

He fell silent, uncomfortable, watching her. Devi lifted her head again and eyed him critically. "Nny, this can't happen this way."

He grew serious, concealing his disappointment as best he could. Why was he even disappointed? He had every reason to expect that things would turn out like this. He told himself that it was just giving Reverend Meat the satisfaction of winning, allowing himself to succumb to such feelings as concern and, worse...caring. But Devi...she was the only person who had really liked him for who he was, and he had fucked it up. Royally. "Don't be mad at Tenna," he advised. "I went to her because I couldn't go to you and I didn't want to just watch you like that other time--"

"I saw you," she said suddenly, pointing at him. "Outside that other store, when I was working! Fuck, Nny, you made me not want to leave the fucking house for _months_--"

"I know, I know, I know," he said frantically, waving his hands. "And I'm sorry. But look, I didn't do that this time! Much. Aside from making sure you were here. I just...I just wanted to see you and make sure Tenna was right about you being okay." He leaned in a little and whispered, as though telling her a secret. "I think Tenna might not be...all there. In the head."

Devi just rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Nny. Listen to me for two seconds."

He fell silent, watching her, transfixed. "Allow me to finish what I was saying before you jumped to conclusions," she said. She took a deep breath, closing the few steps between herself and the counter. The rational part of her brain was screaming at her to run, but her stupid brain had suddenly decided to ignore it. "I can't talk to you--I can't be friends with you or even see you if I think you're going to attack me to...to 'immortalize the moment' or whatever. That's not the way to go about a relationship. You know that?"

He nodded slowly. She was making him nervous with how close she was. "It wasn't a very good plan," he said quietly. "And it's okay, because it's not going to be anything...close. Anything touchy or warm or squishy or icky or--"

Devi put her hand on Nny's. He pulled it back as sharply as if she'd burned him, cradling his hand as though it was injured. For a brief moment, he looked nothing more than a freaked out, disturbed kid. No amount of killing he had done could change that. "What--"

"Shut up," she said again, quieter this time. She leaned over the counter toward him. He was just close enough.

"Don't be afraid."

Fin.


End file.
